The Girl Who Travelled
by Schrenostahl
Summary: What will happen when a girl from another world comes to Hogwarts? She's not a pureblood, a halfblood, Muggleborn or born at all. She was designed a fighter but never made a soldier. In her homeworld magic never existed. Strangely, she became a witch once she crossed the border between the universes. Where is her place, and is there a place for her in the new world?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Pyrrha and her home world both belong to me (since I took her from an original story of mine). Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**UPD: I am very grateful to MysticDew who has agreed to become my beta reader.**

_Octidi of the third decade* of Prairil, 199_

"This is it. It's time. And yet... I really don't like the idea," Pyrrha thought touching the strange contraption one of her elder sisters had made. The prototype, to be exact. The machine that was never meant to be actually used by someone.

The device looked unimpressive. It was the size of a cupboard. It didn't even have a cover, colourful dusted wires bristled everywhere. Shabby sockets both plugged and unplugged were dangling to the fierce whistling wind. Only the humming of Pyrrha's computer disturbed the sinister peace of the dead forest.

The machine was supposed to take something from somewhere and put it anywhere else. Travellers, cargo, anything. It was a teleport. One that successfully delivers any amount of matter through any distance. The only real problem was energy. However, Pyrrha had more than she needed. Not as much as Pondus' nuclear power station could provide, but even the generator of 500 megamayers was good enough for her alone.

What did she need a teleport for, anyway? The answer is she needed to hide somewhere where no one would be able to find her. And this is where a teleport delivers anything if no one has set up a beacon. And it won't be just a different location, no, Dina was almost positive the finishing point will be in another world. A different version of Earth to be specific, not necessarily even inhabited.

Pyrrha never liked the idea of taking risks but she didn't have any other choice at the moment. What else could a little girl who was constantly chased do? No one could help her. Not for long anyway. She had to stay on the run all the time but there was no real prospect in that.

This doesn't mean she didn't run, she did, and she was damn good at it. For once, being a chimera helped her. She was much stronger than an integral - "normal" - human, adult one, mind you. Even as a ten years old girl she could easily pick up and carry half a ton. Or jump so far it just wouldn't register in the average integral's mind. She wasn't afraid of chemical weapon agents and viral weaponry, because they would affect her very little if at all. Her body was armoured under the skin, the skull was hard enough to withstand the head-on impact of a five line bullet, and her blood coagulated instantly. Because of this, she could basically ignore most firearms, not that her opponents would risk getting her shot. She moved up to ten times faster than an integral. And she always thought this fast, too.

But of course, there were downsides.

She ate a lot, and getting her rations was troublesome (she knew from experience how much the integrals disliked handing out more food than "needed"). She could eat fruits and vegetables, but she could not live off them because she was carnivorous. Yes, glucose was good, and starch was almost as good as glucose, but she needed more than them. On the other hand, she didn't mind raw meat or living animals, like birds, rats and frogs or even insects. They all were accessible and acceptable.

She was sufficiently more hot than an integral and thus easily detectable by infrared scanners. She couldn't help it. Being as cold as integrals was unimaginable for a chimera.

And, of course, the main downside was the authorities' treatment of her: the very reason she was running away.

Half a year ago her life had started to unravel. She had not been considered a human anymore. She couldn't even argue that decision, technically she never was human in the first place. Heck, chimeras were not even mammals! But... Those were simply biological peculiarities. Chimeras had been designed as posthumans, so to speak. They might be unable to interbreed with humans, but they still looked human. And acted human, too. Almost human, to be true. Well, nearly almost. As a rough approximation. Anyway, among the other thirty five chimeras Pyrrha acted closest to humans. Everyone acknowledged that.

She had been a happy child. Pyrrha never had parents, yes, but it's not like she had lost them, they simply did not exist. Ever. She had been engineered, grown, then extracted and raised. All this never bothered her. She had her sisters and brothers after all. When she drew her first breath, her eldest siblings Leander and Leandra were both seventeen. Well, those two would never make a good substitute for parents; however, Pyrrha also had Xantha who was sixteen at the time and Dina who was fourteen. Not that she needed parents as such; her psyche was different from that of the average integral child after all.

Pyrrha had been a happy child, but she was not anymore. Now, her life was miserable and even then it was at risk. Not an immediate risk, and yet so real. For a creature whose lifespan is unlimited, being permanently locked up means inevitable violent death. Maybe in a year, maybe in fifty years or two hundred years, who can tell? Most unpleasant. But Pyrrha wouldn't complain, since everything could have been much worse. Thanks to the fact chimeras had not made good soldiers and it had been too expensive to just get rid of them she had been given her happy life after all, no matter how short that peaceful period turned out to be.

Now, she was going to leave this world one way or another. Pyrrha knew she had been finally taken seriously. She had been escaping her persecutors for a decade.* Ten days is quite a result for a little girl. Today, she either will be caught by one of special units or will leave this universe.

It was time. This was the only reason she stole the truck with the generator and drove it here, after all.

She started the engine.

The generator roared like a wounded bear. Yet, no bird was disturbed. There were no nests in the scorched trees, nor was there food for them or any animal. Twenty years ago, a nuclear rocket hit the city not so far away. Then, as if the giant ball of fire hadn't been enough, chemical weapons had been used. This dead forest was irreversibly contaminated. It was not the thing Pyrrha wanted to see last, she would prefer her family. But she did not have any choice.

Almost hyperventilating, she cast the last look at her home world, stroked her computer and suddenly hit the execute key.

In a moment, she disappeared, as disappeared half of the teleport. The rest of it immediately sparked and caught fire. The generator was still roaring, soon to run of fuel.

In five minutes, heliplanes were roaming the sky above the scene, but they came too late.

* * *

_June 17, 1991_

Working for the Department of Mysteries was not all roses. Mr. Fox, whose alias was Ripper (given to this kind man just to spite him; he just knew it), was thinking about quitting. Of course, he would have been thoroughly obliviated, but he could stand it. Obliviating is not that harmful. Turning time, however, is.

Unspeakable Ripper had been turning time for the last three months. He had lived two extra years, for Merlin's sake! And this was not his first experience. He had been turning time before, and of course, there were consequences. Come to think of it, Ripper did not have access to the Elixir of Life Nicolas Flamel kept providing to the DOM. He was not Chronos, the lad who everybody knew drank the Elixir every week in real time. The other regular users of the Time Room were not administered the drink that often. Or were not administered a single drop at all. They inevitably aged.

Mr. Fox treated himself to ice-cream at Fortescue's. He was not too old. Officially, he was twenty five. But due to his time-travels he actually was thirty seven years old. Of course, he knew things the average wizard never learns. He was more powerful than his biological peers, let alone official peers. And he could hope he would be given the Elixir of Life after all. However, it was nothing more than a hope.

If Mr. Fox remained an Unspeakable, he would continue to age at accelerated rates. But there always was the Elixir. If he quit, he would be aging as slow as everyone else. But he wouldn't be able to get his twelve years of life back, and he would forget many things that made him as powerful as he already is...

Perhaps to quit was not an option, after all.

Mr. Fox was about to leave Fortescue's, when something strange happened. Something that was strange even in the magical world. He wouldn't realise it, but Mr. Fox was an Unspeakable and he carried a lot of artefacts. Without them, he would hardly pay any attention to what appeared to be portkey travel.

Mr. Fox was quite able to miss the little girl that fell onto the pavement of Diagon Alley out of nowhere, softly landing on her feet, but Ripper the Unspeakable was not. By the time the girl's belongings crashed down around her and scattered, he knew this was no portkey travel. First, Ripper's artefacts registered instantaneous distortion of gravity where the girl had appeared. Second, you can't just portkey or apparate to any point of Diagon Ally you wish. You'd have to break the anti-portkey wards first, but this would be an emergency for the DMLE. No, the wards had not been violated.

Could it have been a manifestation of accidental magic? Now, that was quite possible. As an Unspeakable, Ripper knew children's accidental magic was most inimitable, most unique and wondrous. In 1834, a child broke through the Gringott's wards. Alas, the boy had not survived his encounter with the goblins.

Ripper paid a little more attention to the girl who was looking around. She was dressed Muggle style, as far as he could tell. And she was clearly surprised, but... There was something off about her surprise. As if she was estimating the level of an unexpected threat. As if she was expecting something...

But of course! She expected the people around her to be astonished at the way of her arrival. The girl must be a Muggleborn witch.

Mr. Fox came up to her:

"Hello, Miss...?"

The girl didn't answer, but froze nevertheless.

"Are you afraid? Don't be."

"L'anglais," the girl muttered, but Mr. Fox didn't catch it.

"Do you even hear me?"

"I do hear you," the girl snapped her eyes onto Mr. Fox. He was taken aback by her sudden reaction, and recoiled a little. "Where am I?"

"In Diagon Alley."

"Where is Diagon Alley then, Citizen?" the girl politely smiled back, but her words were strangely dry. All this just didn't add up.

"Why, in London, of course!" exclaimed Mr. Fox. He was on guard.

"I see."

The girl picked all of her belongings and stood up. She didn't move at all.

"Perhaps, you'd like me to help you?" Mr. Fox offered.

"Thank you," she turned to face him. "But why are you not surprised to see me arrive the way I have?"

"Ah, this is what's keeping you on your toes!" Mr. Fox chuckled, relaxing a bit. "Well, in this place no one is going to be surprised by little magic," he smiled.

"Excuse me?" the girl was clearly surprised herself.

"Ah, so you don't believe magic exists? Well, it's real, I assure you," he chuckled again.

"All right," the girl sighed looking extremely tired, "I'll take your word for it. It's real. But what is magic? Is it a teleport?"

Now, Mr. Fox had no idea of what to say. Even as Ripper, he was completely dumbfounded.

* * *

References

* - In the French Revolutionary calendar, it's a group of ten days.

**A/N So, is it good, is it bad? Should I just give it up or not?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N "Harry Potter" doesn't belong to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

The displacement was instantaneous. Before Pyrrha could blink (she blinked ten times faster than a human, mind you), she felt weightlessness, and the world outside the shifting area distorted, frighteningly growing into infinity. The next moment everything was in order. The world... A world shrank back.

Pyrrha saw she was falling, but she easily wriggled to land properly and not upside down. She looked around. She didn't like what she saw. This was certainly not a deserted area, not with so many people running about.

Pyrrha was terrified.

It didn't matter if she had escaped her home world successfully or had never left it. She just appeared out of nowhere in a crowded place, and this kind of phenomenon must draw attention. Not just someone's idle curiosity, but the intent attention of authorities, too. So much for freedom and happiness.

She panicked.

No one had paid her attention so far. It looked like she had been simply ignored. She didn't mind, but she didn't relax, either. She knew high population density encouraged people to just walk away when a stranger is in distress, and this affected curiosity in relation to strangers, too. However, police or the military wouldn't miss her like that; they did have a mindset different from that of a commoner.

"Are there any cameras?" Pyrrha thought, violently spinning around.

She saw nothing like them. Instead, she saw things most unusual. Things she could not have imagined before even if she tried.

The buildings looked so retro! Even the pavement was cobblestone. But this certainly couldn't be a backward civilisation. Despite hundreds of people walking over the pavement, it remained clean. Not everywhere, but in the places it was clean there was not a single dirty spot. A conclusion suggests itself: subatomic manipulation. To keep the street clean, for the Supreme Engineer's sake!

But there were more oddities than that.

The people wore multicoloured robes. Now, it was much, much worse than it sounds. Pyrrha's colour-sight was weak. Even though she saw ultraviolet, she was unable to tell red, orange and yellow apart. Plus, she couldn't see as many colour hues as integrals could, instead she distinguished among dozens of shades of gray. But while she was handicapped when it came to colour sensation, the acid colours of some people's dresses were still giving her a headache!

She tried not to look at them, however, this was pointless. There were green cats, yellow dogs, motley birds, and colourful strings and balls glowing in midair. The latter were shifting into something less amorphous and more recognizable from time to time.

So many solid objects were floating, so many objects were changing their shapes, and so many unknown creatures were making a noise. One girl's hair constantly shifted colour and length.

Is this a post-singularity world?!

Pyrrha was in awe. For a moment. Then, realisation dawned on her. Superiority in technology this high meant she had very little chances to keep her freedom.

She still retained a little hope, when a man came over to her. Now, that was it. A policeman? Or someone from a more hush-hush institution, like the FLNA's State Security? The second version looked more probable, taking his clothes into consideration. Well, they were as weird as the other people's here, but that was exactly the reason she suspected what she suspected. There was too little difference between him and the others. Therefore, he wore civilian clothes.

He greeted her. In English, as she understood a little later, when he used more words. The melodic pattern of this version of the language was different enough from the pattern of the version she studied. Same thing was with his accent, it was taking Pyrrha an effort to understand him. Thankfully, she was thinking faster than an integral, and she had time to process his speech consciously. However, she was talking as little as possible before she adopted the local accent. She was using abrupt phrases, as it was her decision.

The man involved her in a conversation. Thanks to him Pyrrha found out she was in London. Not too helpful, she already knew this world was close enough to her own judging by the existence of English. The man offered her help, just as she had been expecting. This is when she asked the main question that had been bothering her. It was a matter of life and death after all.

Why did he not express any surprise?

The answer made her settle down a bit. According to this man, no one was going to be surprised in the first place, whatever the magic was. But this neologism aroused her curiosity. What did the word mean? What was "magic"? What was the man referring to, exactly?

It stood to reason she asked what it was.

* * *

That was not a question Mr. Fox was ready to hear. To say his world-view collapsed would be an exaggeration, but one was not asked what magic was every day! Even Muggles knew what it was. They did not believe it existed (well, most Muggles did not unless given proof), but they did know what it was.

"A teleport?" Mr. Fox was perplexed. "Young lady, is this a joke?"

"What are you referring to?"

Mr. Fox sighed. He was loss for words. To think a girl this old hadn't ever heard of magic! Was this the Muggles' doing? Had they banned fairy-tales or something? No, definitely no, this was impossible. But the girl's parents could have, especially if they knew what she was.

"Do you know what you are?" Mr. Fox asked gently.

The girl visibly tensed. This was it! She knew she was different! And she was afraid it would come up. He didn't want to torment her any longer:

"You're a witch!" Mr. Fox solemnly proclaimed.

He smiled when the girl relaxed. Then, she looked at him curiously:

"A what?"

No, could it be...?

"A witch," he repeated with much less confidence.

"I don't know what it is," the girl stared at her feet.

"Oh Merlin," he sighed. "Unbelievable."

She didn't utter a word, just kept silent.

"Let's start this all over. Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Jalysus Fox. And you are..."

"Pyrrha. Pyrrha Eugène," she pronounced it in the French manner.

"Isn't Eugène a male name?"

"It's my last name," Pyrrha shrugged. "It's better than none."

"None? I don't think it's possible. But this is of no importance, Miss Eugène."

She wrinkled her nose when Mr. Fox said "Miss". He couldn't explain why she had reacted this way. Pyrrha was quite mysterious as it was.

"Anyway," he continued. "I think you'll need help of an experienced wizard to get you home. Where do you live?"

Now, the girl looked intimidated. Mr. Fox was wearying of her lack of cooperation.

"Not in London," she finally said.

"Are you from France?" he was getting irritated.

"N-no."

He couldn't tell if she was lying, or just too scared. But either way, he was fed up.

"Listen, Miss Eugène. I do not ask you this out of mere curiosity. I need to know where you live, so I can bring you back home. Do you understand? Don't you think your parents worry about you?"

"I have no parents. And no home, either. "

Mr. Fox was crushed. She said it so evenly!

"Sorry. Do you live in an orphanage, then?"

"Not yet. For now, I define my status as homeless."

This was too much to take in. Mr. Fox had not been expecting such a situation. He rubbed his face and asked:

"How long?"

"About five minutes, I guess."

Just great. Some Muggle accident had occurred, and the girl had survived by apparating to Diagon Alley. And he was the one idiot who chose to interfere. Now what was he going to do being the noble fool he was?

"Do you want ice-cream? I bet you've never tried magical ice-cream."

"I have not. Are you offering it to me?"

"Of course I am!"Mr. Fox exclaimed.

He could have a daughter this old if he wasn't an Unspeakable. A twenty five years old man could not have a child who was going to go to Hogwarts. Mr. Fox wasn't even married. He had been courting a girl for seven years but from her point of view it was merely a year and half. Who knew if he'd have his chance to propose before he turned forty?

Mr. Fox directed Pyrrha inside. He paid for the order and caught Pyrrha's look.

"Wizarding money. Yes, we still use coins of noble metals. I've heard Muggles use paper for money. And I think you don't know what a Muggle is. Am I right?"

Silently, Mr. Fox prayed that he was. If she didn't know what magic was but had an idea of Muggles, he would lose his sanity.

"You are," she tensed a bit.

He gave a sigh of relief.

"Relax, Miss Eugène. No one is going to yell at you for your unintentional ignorance. It's perfectly normal. You're not supposed to know about Muggles anyway. As for what they are... They are people without magic. They can't use it."

"Oh. It's deep."

She didn't say anything else, because they were served the ice-cream.

"It moves," Pyrrha noted. "I don't think there is an animal inside, it must be miniature bots. Is it safe to eat it?"

"Of course! It's food. As for the fact it moves, well, it's called magical for a reason."

"I don't understand. What can the ice-cream and the way I have arrived share?"

"Magic. Right, sorry. It's just so hard. Usually Muggleborns at least know what magic is. They just can't believe it's real. Let's try to make it simpler. Have you ever read fairy-tales?"

"What are those?"

"I knew it," Mr. Fox mumbled. "I just knew it. By Helga, why does it have to be so complicated? All right. Have anything unexplainable ever happened to you? Or around you?"

"Everything can be explained. Even if the reason is not obvious, it's there."

Mr. Fox smacked his face.

"I pity Minerva. This woman is a saint!" he whispered.

"Minerva? It's a name of a Roman goddess, yes?"

"Yes, but also... Of course! Have you ever read myths?"

"Well, I have. All those that have not been lost."

"Lost? Anyway, that's good! Now, myths are just myths. However, there is also magic. Unbelievable things can be done with it, things similar to those that gods and demigods did. Less epic, maybe."

"So, you're saying, magic is a kind of religion? Am I right?"

"I better show you," Mr. Fox muttered.

He waved his wand and transfigured a spoon into a tiny wooden chessman.

Pyrrha took it.

"This is magic." Mr. Fox said.

"Unbelievable. I can't even estimate how much energy that requires. It looks like real wood."

"It is. But it's not permanent."

Pyrrha looked at him.

"How can it be not? Unless you apply whatever you have... Magic, yes? Unless you apply magic again, it must remain as it is."

"Let's just say, it's magic that keeps this chessman in this state. When it wears off, it'll be a spoon again."

"Oh. I wish Dina was here. Or Amalthea. They are my elder sisters and physicists. They'd sort it out."

"Oh! Do you know where to find them?"

"I am afraid this is not possible," Pyrrha frowned. "So where does magic originate from, Citizen Fox?"

"Us," Mr. Fox answered slowly. What kind of form of address was that? "Wizards, witches, magical creatures."

"Wait, wait, wait! Doesn't this device use magic?" she pointed at his wand.

"No. It just directs my magic," Mr. Fox chuckled a bit.

"So, you're saying you basically did it yourself?"

"Yes."

"Oh. That's... strange."

"Maybe. Are you finished?"

Pyrrha nodded.

"Good. Now, we have to settle your situation. Let's go to the apparation point. I'll have to side-along you."

"Sorry?"

"It's like what you have done. I mean your instantaneous travel. Very impressive bit of magic, by the way. So don't be afraid."

They came out Florean Fortescue's and headed for the nearest apparation point. Pyrrha couldn't stand still. She was looking around at the surroundings with caution.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I do not own Harry Potter.**

"Where are we going to, exactly?" Pyrrha asked Citizen Fox.

They almost approached what he had called the apparation point. There were not too many people here, in fact, the only one they saw had just disappeared.

"Patience, young lady. All right, let me think. The DMLE is out, as you've done no wrong. The Department of the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes is out, too, since there is nothing to reverse. That leaves... Merlin, what good is the Ministry for if they can't handle a situation like this? They just don't care for Muggleborns and choose not to interfere with wizards' kids, either. So full of themselves!"

"You don't know what to do?"

"Well, I could try and bring you to the Muggle world, but there will be a risk of violation of the Statute of Secrecy. I still don't know where you have apparated from. If you're registered, say, in Edinburgh and then you appear here in London, it will look really awkward. Let alone if you are a foreigner, and that's what I think. Now, we don't want us, wizards, exposed, do we?"

"Statute of Secrecy? Muggle world? What's going on?" Pyrrha felt giddy.

"You could have figured that one out by yourself. Don't you understand why you've never run into something magical before? It's because the wizards hide from the Muggles. Neither are invincible, but there are so many Muggles, more than the wizards. When the conflict began escalating in the past," Citizen Fox plunged into explanations, "the wizards chose to hide themselves. Since then, Muggles in some countries have gained a lot of power, and I don't mean rubbish like political influence. Just plain old military power. They've become better in killing. You must know what a single assault rifle is capable of."

Now, that was very bad. What had Pyrrha got herself into? Why would this man bring up a conflict, if there weren't a real threat related to it? And the most important question was, what if she were not a witch but a Muggle? She knew how exactly she had travelled, and there was no "magic" involved. So, if there were a conflict, wouldn't she be killed once it was obvious the word "witch" did not describe her?

"I see," she said carefully. "But where do I go? Maybe you'll just let me go? I shall manage by myself."

"I'm sure you will," Citizen Fox chuckled. "But, you know, little girls cannot be running around in the Wizarding world, not without someone looking after them. And I do suspect the Muggles are not that different from us in this aspect. As for your first question, I think St. Mungo's is a good start. You'll need a medical examination before we do anything else."

Great. Just what she needed, to have her nature exposed. Even the most thick-headed man, not even a medic, would have realised something was wrong with her, if they saw her without most of her clothes. She had no breast whatsoever, there only was smooth skin instead of nipples. She had no navel, too. Well, it used to exist, but it had skinned over a long time ago. Her ribs' location was not limited to the chest; they showed through the belly, too. Why wouldn't they? The intercostals guards were her main armour.

Even a shallow examination was potentially fatal. Pyrrha wanted to live.

"No, thank you. I better go without one."

"Oh, please. It isn't that bad. It's nothing like Muggles would do. We have magic, after all. Come on."

Pyrrha stopped dead in her tracks.

"No," she said firmly. She didn't like where all this was going. Then again, she was not in control of the situation.

"What is the matter with you? I'm just trying to help you!"

"I really appreciate it, Citizen; however, I don't want to undergo what you have offered. I think I better go to the Muggle world as you have called it."

"I cannot allow you that, I'm afraid. Not like this. And I don't have free time to put up with your whims. Stop being so naughty, will you?"

"This is not a whim! I just can't!"

"I'm really sorry, but I have to do this the hard way. _Petrificus Totalus._"

Pyrrha was surprised to hear Latin spoken. Especially broken Latin. Why would he speak it?

The next moment, she felt her muscles stiffen a bit. He did something to her!

She was still able to move, even though it felt like she moved through water, only it wasn't the environment resisting but her own body. And yet, she didn't become really slow. She still could move faster than integrals.

Pyrrha instantly turned around. She saw the man was pointing his stick at her back, his possible surprise not yet shown up. Whatever the stick could do, he had to take a good aim first. And now he could not, because Pyrrha was aware of his intentions.

But what was she going to do? The good thing was she could think something over before an integral could react to a move of hers. The bad thing was she had no plan and very little information on this world. She could try and knock the man out or kill him, but where would it take her? Where would she head then? She could not "apparate", not intentionally anyway. And she had no teleport now. All she had was some food, two portable computers, four gold bars, nine golden wedding rings, five golden teeth, twelve credit cards rendered worthless, fifteen thousand thalers in banknotes (yet again worthless), weapons both chemical and firearms, a lot of cartridges, a flask of gun oil, a greasy rag, a ramrod, three changes of clothes, a gas-mask with the supply of carbon monoxide filters, a sheath knife, a fishing rod, a fishing line, ten fishhooks, a pot, a plate, a spoon and a fork, several needles and five reels of thread. What of these could be used right now? Well, except the guns and the knife?

On the other hand... Why did she have to use the things she had? Perhaps, she should just free this man of his weapon, and then she could talk to him.

She snatched the stick from Citizen Fox' outstretched hand. A wall which Pyrrha had pointed the stick to cracked. Then, the world suddenly blacked out.

* * *

The full body bind was not a really offensive curse. Yes, it was used by Aurors and abused by criminals; however, parents cast this spell on their kids much more often. Little Jalysus Fox' mother used the full body bind on her son once or twice in a month until he went to Hogwarts. Sometimes she cast a mild pain curse, the weak equivalent of the Cruciatus. That was more humane than the thrashings Muggles gave their children, anyway.

So, when Miss Eugène started acting like a spoilt little princess she probably was, Mr. Fox went the well rehearsed routine even though he only used to be a victim of this disciplinary measure. At that moment, he didn't just think that a Muggleborn witch would take it differently from a child of wizards.

He was not ready for what was to come next.

After the body bind hit the girl, she didn't freeze like she was supposed to. Instead, she literally blurred (into motion as he'd understand later), and Mr. Fox felt he didn't have his wand anymore. The girl was holding it.

A wall against the wand cracked, and then, the girl just sank onto the pavement.

"Merlin's bollocks!" Mr. Fox swore aloud. He immediately dismissed the girl's rather quick reaction and her speed.

Perhaps, explanations are in order. Mr. Fox was Ripper. Ripper was an Unspeakable. And his wand was a wand of an Unspeakable. This meant his wand was cursed, and this was not plain dark but pitch black magic. Nobody could disarm him and get away with using his wand. And when it came to little girls, the curse was lethal. Probably. He'd never tried to find that out, but it could cripple a grown wizard, after all.

Imagine his terror when the protections obviously reacted to the unstructured magic the way they would react to an actual spell cast.

Now, St. Mungo's was out. They couldn't counter this curse in time. The only real option was the Department of Mysteries.

Mr. Fox tried to pick the girl's limp body up, but he couldn't. And he didn't want to use magic on her unnecessarily. Were her belongings she carried in a backpack that heavy? Anyway, to free her of them would take too long, and he could not side-along the girl anyway, so he took a lace, transfigured it into a rope, and made a portkey to his laboratory in the DOM.

In a moment, Mr. Fox or rather Ripper was there with the girl. Ripper cast face obscuring charm absent-mindedly and tried to unfasten Pyrrha's backpack. _Alohomora_ didn't work on the buckles, so he had to do it manually. There must have been a spell for that, but there was no time to look for it.

In half a minute, the backpack stood in the corner, and the girl laid stretched on the table. Ripper gave her the potion to counter the worst of the curse's effects. For some reason, her eyelids were trembling already. No, it couldn't be happening? There was no way she could be coming around this early! The potion hadn't kicked in yet!

Ripper proceeded anyway. He undressed her, because he needed as much of her skin exposed for the treatment as possible. And this is where he stopped dead.

A half-naked body could not embarrass an Unspeakable, and definitely not a ten years old girl's body, even if she wore no bra. But Ripper was not embarrassed. He was baffled. There clearly were some feminine anatomic arrangements missing. Well, they were masculine, too, since the arrangements in question were shared by men and women, the size being the only difference.

Come to think of it, even such a thing as a navel was not present, either. Even dragons had navels!

Was she even human?

This is when Ripper hesitated over whether he had to continue the treatment. It didn't take him long to make up his mind, and he did cast the counter-charm on her skin.

Pyrrha snapped her eyes open. Definitely too early.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she croaked.

"Easy now. You are in the Department of Mysteries, as for who I am, you can call me Ripper. This is my alias." Ripper had no right to disclose his identity. "Now, I have several questions for you, girl. What are you?"

"Can't you see?"

Her answer was rather cheeky.

"I can, and that's exactly the problem. I repeat my question: what are you?"

"A witch?"

"This is beside the point. Don't try my patience and answer the goddamn question! You are not a human!" he pressed.

"I am!" she coughed. "Well, technically, I don't belong to the species of _Homo Sapiens sapiens_, but this doesn't cancel the fact I am a human, too!"

That was an interesting point of view. But it was not correct. Anyway, the girl knew what she was; therefore, she could tell him this.

"No, you are not a human, child, no matter how hard you want to be one. You are a magical creature, well, a Being, to be exact."

"What? N-no!" she immediately coughed herself into fits.

Ripper applied new healing charms.

"You may not agree on this. But you know what you are. Don't you? Now, tell me what you are."

"Alright, alright! I am a chimera. Are you happy now?"

"While a chimera is a magical creature, you don't look like one. Not even close."

"What do you mean I don't? I am the only specimen of _Chimaera Rapax__homiforma!_"

Now that was even more interesting. This sounded like a Muggle scientific name. He had to make sure.

"I see. Why were you pretending to be a Muggleborn?"

"I didn't! And you didn't call me that, too, you just compared me to them!"

"Hmm," Ripper hummed. This didn't answer his question.

He took a fake wand out and pointed it at the girl's chest.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Miss Eugène didn't even jerk aside.

She had no relation to the Wizarding world before, that was official. Almost official, an extra test would do no harm.

"Now, very good. By the way, if you claim to be a chimera, someone must have told you this. Was it Lord Voldemort?" Ripper asked the question as if he were asking whether it was cloudy today.

"Look, I've no idea who he is! I'm not supposed to meet a man just because of what I am."

She didn't react to the name. She didn't catch the absurdity of the question.

"Who told you that you were a chimera, anyway?"

"The staff of the Bioengineering Institute," she mumbled, turning away from Ripper. "They've created us, after all, it's only natural they have given the name to the species."

"Muggles can do that?!"

"Not in this world. I don't know for sure, though."

What? Was she from a different world? He didn't believe it. Honestly, it couldn't be… or could it? Ripper tried to run his hand through his hear, only to almost throw the hood back.

This was madness!


End file.
